


Flesh and Blood

by santanico



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-02
Updated: 2012-07-02
Packaged: 2017-11-09 00:29:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/449219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/santanico/pseuds/santanico
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce maybe spends too much time thinking of what the word "home" means to him. In the end, it's possible he's found that in Tony. Still, he isn't quite sure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flesh and Blood

They don’t know how it happens; which is probably typical, and Bruce doesn’t think about it outside of sparrow kisses and clenching fingers. The sheets feel like they could be silk and he isn’t sure how to react to the expansiveness of it all – how the scruff of Tony’s beard feels against his neck, how his fingers are rough and calloused and speak volumes about the differences between being rich and being happy.

Tony kisses like he talks; quick and hard and focused. But sometimes he’s less than that, scurrying and playful, smile quirking on his mouth, hands finding places to touch and to hold and squeeze. They mend each other, move together in fluid motions, not seeming like two bodies. Bruce feels, sometimes, irrefutably calm. When his head isn’t pounding and his eyes aren’t aching, he feels good. Relaxed. 

Sentimental, almost.

It has to be too good to be true – that’s how these things always are. Bruce knows that being guarded isn’t the right approach, but he’s also afraid of what the right approach may be. He knows Tony well enough by now; he can sense when he’s frustrated by the way he taps his pen against his desk, how his brow furrows just slightly and he chews on his lip until it’s raw and perfect for biting. They are two such strange beings – Bruce contemplates this late at night, tracing his fingers along Tony’s jaw and kissing his throat because he simply cannot sleep. The technology that keeps Tony alive and the technology that fucked Bruce over.

Silly, maybe, but he thinks sometimes that he’s lucky. That it all went wrong. That he tried too hard. He suffers, he falls, sometimes he even fails completely and the anger gets to be too much. Sometimes he cares more than he should, gets too involved, almost shouts or steps forward, almost reacts with an anger so powerful it could hurtle his humanity away.

He wants to be normal, but he still craves it. Touch. He wants to unlock a certain serenity, because it has to be there. Under his skin, within his flesh.

Coursing through his veins, there is something normal, something so breathtakingly simple that he can’t name it. It isn’t love; at least, he doesn’t think so. But it’s something similar, it’s something that happens when Tony starts talking in science jargon to him and he blocks out the meaning just to listen to his voice. Tony laughs in a different way every time, sometimes gravelly and long, sometimes short and without humor. Tony can be sarcastic and full of wit, he can be smart and he can be ignorant and obnoxious.

But they’re the same at the core. A little lonely and in need of something to protect. It’s easier that way – gives it meaning, which Bruce needs.

They don’t have exchanges that involve “I love you”s or “Have a nice day”s. That always feels like aimless chatter and Bruce tends to back away from people who make him feel confined (he needs space, he needs outside, he needs warm air and sounds at night with the windows open and the sky above him). With Tony it’s always to a point, always important. Nothing seems hollow.

It’s fulfilling.

It gives him hope.


End file.
